


Snart's Eleven

by meowitskatmofo



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crossdressing Barry Allen, Eventual Smut, Heist Shenanigans, Leonard Snart Big Bang 2018, M/M, Movie: Ocean's Eleven, Ocean's Eleven AU, Robbery, Shenanigans, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowitskatmofo/pseuds/meowitskatmofo
Summary: Leonard Snart has spent the last four years in prison planning a perfectly insane heist and recruits an eclectic crew to pull off the impossible.





	1. The Plan

Four years was a long time to be locked away in prison. It was also a good amount of time to think, to plan, to plot. Leonard Snart did not let any of it go to waste, using every precious second of his incarceration to plan a heist. 

And not just any heist, no. 

This would be his masterpiece, his magnum opus, his legacy. 

This would be a robbery of legendary proportions. This would be an epic tale of thievery that all criminals around the world would tell their kids as a bedtime story. 

The moment he was released from prison, he was ready to put that plan into action. 

He was going to need some serious manpower to pull this off, a full crew in fact. He would also need funding for a heist of this magnitude, but he had a plan for that as well. Family always came first before anything else, so his first stop was the Bellagio Casino in Las Vegas. 

All he had on him were the personal effects given back to him upon his release from prison. A three piece Armani suit, Gucci shoes, and his wallet that held a pitiful amount of cash. It was made even more meager by the cab ride down here, but Len wasn't too concerned. He traded all of his money in for chips, scanning the casino floor. 

A blackjack table immediately caught his attention, the dealer a young and beautiful woman with curly brown hair. He sat down, smiling slyly. 

The dealer looked up as he sat down, her bright blue eyes wicked and knowing as she greeted him, "Good afternoon, sir. Welcome to the Mirage." 

"Thank you," Len said, glancing down at her name tag, "Rachel." 

"In town for business or pleasure?" she asked cordially, dealing him a few cards. 

"Family reunion," he replied with a smirk, glancing at his hand and placing a small bet. "Hoping to get the gang all back together, you know?" 

"That sounds nice," Rachel said with a friendly smile, "I'm sure your family has missed you very much." 

"Mmm, some more than others," Len chuckled. 

"Hit or stay, sir?" Rachel asked politely, her thumb twitching slightly. 

"Hit," he said, nodding. 

She flipped another card to him, saying brightly, "And twenty one for the gentleman. Congratulations, sir." 

Len grinned, eagerly sliding his winnings over. "Thank you very much." 

"Another hand?" the dealer asked. 

"Why not," Len replied, leaning over the table with a smile and carefully watching Rachel's hands, "I'm feeling pretty lucky." 

A few rounds later, and Len had more than enough money to get a proper room at the hotel for a few days. He was stacking up his chips, asking cheerfully, "Know any friendly bars around here? Maybe the kind of place that would be good for a family reunion?" 

"Saints and Sinners is a nice little place just outside of the city," Rachel replied with a warm smile, "Really gets going around nine o'clock. So I hear." 

"Thanks for the tip," Len said with a wink, rising from the table. He bid her farewell, cashing out and leaving the casino. He checked into his room, a plush penthouse suite, relaxing for a few hours before it was time to head out to the bar. 

Len had been coming to Saints and Sinners since he was in high school. He had made his first fake ID just so he could get in the door. This was his place, his home away from home. 

It was also where Barry Allen worked. 

Gorgeous and vivacious Barry Allen who liked wearing short dresses and cute heels and regularly starred in many of Len's most elaborate fantasies. 

As soon as Len walked into the bar, he couldn't take his eyes off of him. He hadn't seen Barry since before he went to prison, and he couldn't ignore the faint flutter stirring in his gut when he saw him. Even while bussing a dirty table, he looked phenomenal. 

Today Barry was wearing a soft and flowing red plaid dress, fishnet stockings with black Doc Marten high heeled boots. He had a black belt cinched around his little waist and a black choker at his neck. He looked absolutely delicious. 

"Hey, Barry," Len said, smiling softly, his eyes wandering up his long legs, "Lookin' good." 

"Why, Leonard Snart! Hmmph, go on and take a picture," Barry teased, putting an extra swing in his hips as he very purposely brushed by him, "It'll last you longer." 

"Is that an offer?" Len asked playfully. "I've always wanted to dabble in boudoir photography. Actually been a lifelong dream of mine." 

"Keep on dreamin'," Barry taunted, taking his place back behind the bar with a grin as he put away the dirty dishes. He started making a martini, knowing Len's tastes very well, asking him, "When did you get out?" 

"Just today," Len replied, taking his usual seat right at the corner of the bar. "Mmm, by the way. Your father sends his love." 

Len had met Barry's father while in prison. Henry was a fellow criminal who had run afoul of an undercover cop during a con and still had twelve years of a twenty year sentence left to serve. 

Good man, good thief, shitty luck. 

"I need to go visit him soon. How is he?" Barry asked, rolling the shaker over his shoulder flawlessly and pouring Len's drink. He knew not to add any olives, pushing it towards him. 

"He's good," Len replied as he gratefully accepted the glass, inhaling in with a happy sigh before sipping it slowly. "Mmmph. Perfect." 

"I know," Barry sighed, feigning a humble shrug, smiling warmly. 

"Staying out of trouble?" Len asked politely. 

"Of course," Barry said innocently, his big green eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Len reached into his pocket to pay for his drink, laughing when he realized his wallet was gone. He held out his hand expectantly, drawling, "Ah. Still got quick fingers, I see?" 

Barry grinned, handing him back his wallet with a chuckle. "Quickest fingers on the west coast." 

"Ever consider coming out of retirement?" Len asked curiously. 

"Nope," Barry replied, casually drumming his long nails on the top of the bar, "I'm a good boy, Len. Remember?" 

"Mmm, are you really being good... or just being good at it?" 

"Oh, trust me," Barry assured him with a wink, "Whatever I do? I am very good at it." 

"I bet you are," Len agreed, grinning slyly. "Maybe I could take you out to dinner, and you could show me just how good you are." 

"Oh, Len. We both know how that would end. I'd fall asleep and you'd fall in love," Barry laughed, sweetly patting Len's hand and moving to wait on another customer. 

"Of that I have no doubt," Len said to himself, enjoying the view as Barry sashayed away. He sipped at his martini, surprised to realize how much he had missed Barry. They had always flirted, the attraction between them undeniable although Barry always amicably refused his advances. 

They had never worked together, Len's high profile heists being far too risky for Barry's liking. He preferred small jobs, short and sweet, and his fast fingers had earned him a speedy nickname for being an exceptional pickpocket. 

The Flash, they called him. 

Barry had gone straight since his father's arrest, and Len knew it was because of his mother's declining health. With his father in prison, Barry had been left on his own to take care of her. Having no other family that could watch over her, Barry would certainly not risk incarceration over snatching up someone's Rolex. 

Len could still dream, watching Barry's hands speed through counting out the money in the tip jar. He was starting to imagine just how useful those quick fingers might be with the new heist he had planned. 

It was also very easy to imagine all sorts of other applications for those beautiful hands, shaken out of his daydreaming when he heard someone approaching from behind him. 

"Hey, jerk," a familiar voice giggled, Len turning his head to see Rachel from the casino standing behind him. 

"Hey, trainwreck," Len replied with a grin, standing up to embrace her. He smirked, glad to see her out of the dealer's uniform. "Right on time. How are you, beautiful sister? How's being 'Rachel' working out for you?" 

"Great!" she gushed, "Seeing as how Rachel Woodard doesn't have a criminal record like Lisa Snart, you know. Much easier to get a nice, respectable job." 

Lisa Snart was Len's younger half-sister and permanent partner in crime. They had been plotting capers together since they were children, everything from robbing the elementary school bake sale fund to smuggling candy out of the corner store in the lining of their clothes. 

"I'm proud of you," Len laughed, ushering for Lisa to join him at a booth in the back of the bar. "Respectable looks nice on you." 

"Ugh. It's boring. Why didn't you tell me you were getting out today?" Lisa scolded. "I didn't think your release was until next week! I would have picked you up." 

"This was much more fun," Len chuckled, "Glad you still remember all our hand signals. Thanks for that, by the way." 

"No problem," Lisa replied with a sweet kissy face. They had been using that system of signals to cheat at cards since they were in middle school. "This means you can buy the drinks tonight." 

"To celebrate my freedom?" 

"And for you to tell me all about your new plan," she countered with a smug smile, "I know you, Lenny. And I know you already have something cooking in that big brain of yours, and I want in." 

"You know me too well," Len chuckled. 

Barry approached, handing Lisa a margarita with a shot of tequila, greeting, "Hey, Lees." 

"Hey, Barry!" Lisa chirped, eyeing his shoes enviously, "Ugh, I love your fuckin' kicks." 

"Thanks," Barry said with a big smile, showing them off with a quick twirl, "They're new! Still totally killing me, but so worth it." 

"I would be more than happy to give you a foot rub," Len offered innocently. 

"Pretty sure it's not my feet you really wanna rub," Barry snorted. 

"I did invite you to dinner," Len pointed out. "Dessert usually follows, and I can definitely promise you something very sweet at the end of the meal." 

"Mmm, too bad I'm on a diet," Barry replied with a smirk, "I've sworn off carbs, sugar, and men wearing ancient Armani." He turned up his nose at Len's attire and winked at Lisa before heading back to his post at the bar. 

Len tilted his head to follow Barry's departure, his gaze hungry. Four years had been a very long time, and he couldn't help that Barry was looking particularly edible tonight. 

Lisa snapped her fingers, clearing her throat as she said, "Focus, Lenny." 

"I am focused." 

"On the plan," she griped. 

"I'm planning to rob the MGM Grand, the Bellagio, and the Mirage," Len said, finishing off his martini and smacking his lips smugly. 

"You're gonna rob the casino I work at?" Lisa laughed softly, realization beginning to crawl all over her face as she hissed, "You do know that all three of those places are owned by Eobard Thawne?" 

Thawne was a Las Vegas kingpin, powerful and nasty with a ruthless reputation. He had great influence with both the police and the mafia. He was rich, practically invincible, and absolutely unforgiving. 

"Oh, I'm very well aware," Len replied with a sly smile, "I also know that in a few weeks Socko Strong and John Diggle are fighting for the world heavy weight title. It's a very highly anticipated event, and I also happen to know that the Nevada Gaming Commission requires all casinos to have enough money on hand to cover all the customers' bets." 

"How much money are we talking?" 

"Oh, my math may be a little off," Len purred slowly, "But on the night of the fight, the vault at the Bellagio will contain somewhere in the neighborhood of one hundred and eighty million dollars." 

Lisa's eyes glittered with excitement, squealing, "Ohhhh, that's a nice, big beautiful number, dear sister." 

"Thought you might approve, dear sister," Len said, raising his empty glass in a toast. 

"We're gonna need a full crew," Lisa said, leaning back as she took the shot and chased it down with a sip of her margarita. "Mmm. At least eight, maybe nine." 

"Where's Mick at?" 

"He's around, working," Lisa replied, "Want him for point?" 

"I do. We'll also need someone for tech support. Hartley out of the clink?" 

"Ha! Never went in," Lisa cackled, "Funny story. All of the prosecution's evidence magically disappeared from the police database, and Mr. Rathaway is a free man. It was just the damnedest thing." 

"Very nice. Mmmm. Transportation?" 

"Nimbus and Mardon?" 

"The Misty Weather Garage guys? Thought they split up?" Len frowned. 

"They did," Lisa explained with a grin, "And got back together. And then split again. Pretty sure they made up, though. Look, nobody can drive or build like those two. They're not stable, but they're the best. And they're always looking for work." 

"They don't like me," Len said flatly. 

"Take Mick with you," Lisa suggested, "They like him. And bring some rum. You can win them over. You're very charming when you want to be." 

"And yet still some resist me," Len remarked, his gaze shifting subtly to Barry. He nodded his head, and Barry noticed his empty glass, waving back in acknowledgment. 

Len blew him a kiss. 

Barry pretended to gag. 

Lisa rolled her eyes at the little exchange, continuing on, "We're gonna need one hell of a bankroll to pull this off." 

"Already have that figured out, too," Len said, returning his attention to his sister. "Martin Stein seems pretty lonely up in his big ol' beautiful mansion. I seem to recall he is not a fan of Mr. Thawne." 

Martin Stein was another very powerful and rich Vegas businessman. Though he dabbled in criminal affairs, he was far more benevolent than Thawne. 

"That's your big plan?" Lisa complained. "Hope that Stein hates Thawne enough to fund us?" 

"It's not hoping if I know it to be absolutely certain," Len replied confidently. 

"Fine, but take Mick with you," Lisa signed, "Stein doesn't like you, either." 

Barry brought them a fresh round of drinks, another shot for Lisa and another martini for Len. The bar was busy enough now that he didn't have time to flirt, although Len swore Barry had an extra swing in his hips just for him as he walked away. 

"So," Len drawled, running his finger over the rim of his glass as he returned his focus to the task at hand, "What is dear Mick doing with himself these days?" 

"Mmmm, teaching rich assholes how to play poker," Lisa replied with a quick click of her tongue. 

"Ohhh, I'm sure he loves that." 

"He's miserable, and you fuckin' know it," she chuckled deeply, "Finish your drink, be a dear, and go rescue him." 

"Absolutely," Len promised as he gulped back the martini. He kissed his sister's cheek, and dropped a wad of cash in Barry's tip jar before leaving to find his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to a very sweet and patient nonny who sent me this prompt forever ago! Saved it for the Leonard Snart Big Bang! Woo woo! I hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> Beta'ed with love by the awesome and incredible Red Harlequin! <3


	2. Prepare the Plan

Mick Rory was in the private executive lounge at the Venetian, surrounded by billionaire playboys, expensive liquor, and the thick fog of cigar smoke. It was supposed to be a lesson in cards, how to play poker, but all these jerks wanted to do was measure each other's dicks. 

Not literally, of course. 

That at least would have been somewhat entertaining. 

Bruce Wayne was bragging about the profits of his company from the last quarter, his hand flashing all over the place as he talked incessantly. 

Mick snorted. Sloppy. 

Tony Stark was passing his phone around to show off pictures of the Lamborghinis, plural, he had recently purchased with a smug smile. 

Mick didn't even know where the guy's cards were. Dick. 

Oliver Queen was at least attempting to play, but then he had to announce that he had recently slept his way through almost the entire New York City Ballet Troupe. 

Mick rolled his eyes. Asshole. 

T'Challa had been doing very well, but as the game dissolved into a pissing contest, he was quick to remind everyone that he was genuine royalty and ruled an entire country. 

Mick had a snotty thought all lined up, but then T'Challa gave him a cigar and refilled his glass to the brim with some very fancy bourbon. Mick paused, considering for a long moment as he took a small sip. The bourbon was impressively delicious. 

Maybe T'Challa wasn't so bad. 

This had dragged on for hours. The more the liquor flowed, the more the game suffered. Not that Mick wasn't being well compensated for his time, but he was still ready to punch all four of these rich brats in the face. He kept drinking away, long having given up on teaching any of these fools a damn thing, surprised when he saw a lean figure strolling into the lounge completely unannounced. 

Mick's eyes widened in shock when he saw it was his friend, Leonard Snart. The game forgotten, he stood up to give him a crushing hug. 

Mick had met Len and Lisa when his family moved into the same neighborhood a few doors down. He already had a juvie record by then for a few nasty school fights, but once he teamed up with the Snart siblings, the real fun began. 

Len always had a very calculating mind, even back then, able to plot out the most clever little capers that always left their pockets stuffed with treasures and completely clear from trouble. They had been through more scrapes and close calls than Mick could count, and there was no one in the world that he trusted more. 

Mick chuckled darkly, immediately excited when he saw a sly smile curling Len's lips. 

Oh, he knew that smile. 

"Please fuckin' tell me you have a job," Mick grumbled, slapping Len's back affectionately as they embraced. 

"I have a job," Len assured him, grinning wide. 

Mick turned back to the table, holding his head up high and announcing loudly, "All right, you spoiled bitch ass motherfuckers. I'm fuckin' outta here!" 

Len tried not to laugh. He knew Mick would not leave quietly after suffering all evening long in such spoiled company. 

Mick glared at each of the men sitting at the table, growling, "Bruce, you're a little shit with some major daddy issues. Stop trying to impress everybody. That money don't make up for being a soulless asshole. Go see a fuckin' shrink. 

"Tony, all the fancy cars and cool toys in the world won't make up for your crappy attitude and your fuckin' tiny dick. Yeah, they're some really nice cars, but it's a damn shame about your penis. 

"Oliver, you're a fucking douche. Like, really, you're just a fucking prick. You're gonna end up creating your own damn STD, and your junk is just gonna end up rottin' off. Nasty ass." 

All three of the insulted men were too stunned to even respond, T'Challa left tensely waiting for the inevitable vile to be spilled upon him. 

"T'Challa," Mick began, humming lightly, thinking it over before holding out his hand for a quick fistbump. "You're all right." 

"Thanks?" T'Challa said, blinking slowly. 

"Let's fuckin' go," Mick laughed, swiping the bottle of the bourbon that he'd liked so much, throwing his arm around Len's shoulders as they exited the lounge. 

Mick tipped the valet for bringing his car around, and Len was all smiles when he saw it. 

It was the same old El Camino they'd been running around in since they were teenagers. It was a junker when Mick first bought it, and they had spent many a summer together restoring it to its full glory. 

Len was absolutely purring as he slid into the passenger seat and stroked his hand over the familiar dashboard. If he had been anyone else, Mick would have socked him right in the mouth for fondling the interior like that. 

Mick loved that car so much that every relationship he'd ever had suffered because no girl could compete with his affection for it. Being quite fond of it himself, Len had tried to buy it several times, but Mick had always declined. 

He told Len he'd only give up the keys if he ever found the right woman. 

Len wasn't holding his breath. 

"So," Mick rumbled curiously, pulling out from the casino and onto the strip, "You gonna tell me about this plan of yours?" 

"Absolutely," Len promised, waiting until they were back at his hotel room to tell his friend all about his masterpiece. They shared the pilfered bourbon as Len described every last detail, Mick completely transfixed. 

"Ohhh, Snart," Mick chuckled heartily when he was finished, "That's a hell of a fuckin' plan." 

"Uh huh," Len agreed, tipping his glass back with a greedy smile. 

"Gonna need one hell of a banker," Mick noted, arching his brows. 

"Stein." 

"Ah! Excellent choice," Mick laughed, serious for a moment as he added, "I'm going with you, right? You know he hates you." 

"Yes, I know." Len scowled. 

They drank more, they slept, and awoke only slightly hungover. Mick called Stein to set up a time to meet them, Stein more than happy to invite them over for breakfast mimosas to chat. 

A quick drive took them out to Martin Stein's luxurious mansion, walking out to his poolside slice of paradise, side by side. Mick initiated the conversation by grunting cheerfully, "Hey, you old fuckin' limp dick bastard." 

"Hello to you, you preposterously hideous menace," Stein replied, laughing softly. They shook hands, smiling bright. Despite having as much in common as jelly beans and Lithuanian goat herding, the two were close friends. Stein had funded Mick previously and profited several times over from many successful jobs. 

Stein's demeanor was much cooler as he regarded Len, nodding his head. "Hello, Leonard." 

"Hello, Martin," Len replied politely. 

"How was prison?" Stein asked with a wry smile. 

"Peachy," Len answered cordially, "Thanks for asking." 

Stein waved his hand, leading them to a cluster of wicker chairs and a matching table right next to the pool. He sat down and leaned back, getting comfortable as he got right to the point, saying, "So, I take it you boys didn't come out all this way just to enjoy the immense pleasure of my company." 

"Len's got a plan," Mick rumbled with a sly grin as he took his seat, "And it's crazy. Very fuckin' crazy. But trust me, it's gonna get your dick hard when you hear the green." 

"What sort of a job are you considering, Leonard?" Stein asked, curiously peering over the edge of his glasses at Len. "I'm very interested to know what could possibly have Mr. Rory so excited." 

"Robbery," Len said, preferring to stand for now, "Three casinos right here in Vegas." 

"Casinos?" Stein scoffed in disgust, with a sidelong glance at Mick, noting, "I don't think 'crazy' fully encompasses the absurdity of this venture. No one has ever successfully plundered a casino in Vegas. Never." 

"Never?" Len questioned sweetly. 

"No," Stein retorted flatly, clearly not amused. "What you're suggesting is a complete farce. You do realize I first made my fortune designing the very security that you're hoping to conquer. Casinos are impregnable. There are cameras, timers, vaults, locks, and their guards. Many. And they are always well armed." 

"Hmmm. All very good points," Len said with a shrug, catching Mick's eye with a quick smile. "It does seem quite impossible." 

"Real impossible," Mick added cheerfully, "Dunno what the fuck we were fuckin' thinking, Snart. Guess the idea of all that green went to my head." 

"Indeed," Len sighed, long and drawn out. He looked at Stein with a bit of a pout, asking sullenly, "I suppose this means there's no way to convince you to assist us?" 

"You didn't tell me what casinos you were going to rob," Stein pointed out candidly, his expression suspicious. His eyes had a faint hint of mania, as if he knew he was about to be snared. 

"The Bellagio, the MGM Grand, and the Mirage," Len replied smoothly, the trap laid bare. 

Stein's sneer was positively hateful when he heard the names, hissing softly, "Those are all Eobard Thawne's." He glared at Len, shaking his head as he snapped, "You think you're a clever boy, don't you, Leonard?" 

"I'm not sure what you mean," Len said innocently. 

"You know that Thawne tried to ruin me," Stein accused, "He took the Waverider from me. My very first casino. Bribed the zoning committee to create some ridiculous restrictions that forced me to close it. All so he could buy the property and tear it down to erect an obscene strip mall." 

"Oh?" Len blinked, feigning innocence. "Mmm, maybe I did hear a little something about that. Mick? Did you know?" 

"May have heard a little somethin'," Mick replied, grinning wide. 

Stein glared, looking over Len with something that almost resembled approval, griping, "Fine. I'll gobble down your little tasty bit of bait, Leonard. Hmmph. Eobard Thawne could stand to know what it feels like to have something important taken away from him, and nothing is more important than his pride. A heist of this magnitude would wound him deeply." 

"Thank you," Len said, truly sincere, "And trust me. We're going to take everything." 

"You'd better have a crew as mad as you are," Stein said warily, "They'd certainly have to be to agree to this insanity." He paused, adjusting his glasses as he groaned knowingly, "You've already begun recruiting, haven't you." 

"Yes," Len replied, all too smug. "My darling sister is in, of course. Mick here, naturally. We're going to go track down the Misty Weather boys. I know they do so love a wild ride." 

"Yes, usually on top of each other when they're not busy trying to murder the other," Stein snorted, "They're absolutely volatile. You'd better be ready to keep them in line." 

"I can handle them," Len assured him. 

"I'm sure you're going to reach out to Mr. Rathaway for technical support?" 

"Boy's got the smarts we need," Mick agreed. 

"Munitions?" Stein asked. 

"I was hoping for Jaco Birch," Len confessed, "But then I heard he recently came down with a terrible case of death while I was away." 

"I know somebody," Mick piped up, his grin positively gleeful. "And good. Real fuckin' good." 

"Who? Do I know him?" Len quirked a brow at Mick's delighted expression. 

"Her," Mick corrected, "A very fierce little chemist who likes to make things go boom." 

"Caitlyn Snow," Len realized, knowing the woman's reputation quite well. Cold, ruthless, and a genius with explosives. "Mmm, I'm assuming you'd like to extend that invitation personally?" 

Mick shrugged, smirking happily as he confirmed, "Yeah, what can I say? Worked with her on a bank job last year. She, uh, made quite an impression." 

"We'll also need a greaseman to get into vault," Len went on, ignoring Mick's hopelessly smitten expression for now as the cogs of his brain spun rapidly. "Someone tight, nimble and positively criminal." 

"Mmmm," Mick hummed, "Axel Walker is still pretty bendy and criminal. He's in town, doing that Cirque du Soleil shit, but like the dirty version?" 

"Perfect," Stein quipped, "He's also quite insane. He'll fit in perfectly." He gave Len a concerned frown. "You do know that if you ask him, you will certainly gain James Jesse; whether you want him or not." 

"I do," Len said with a quick nod of his head, "James is a bit manic, but there is no better stage man. He will put on a hell of a show, whatever script we give him." 

"The three of us, Miss Snart, the Misty Weather boys, Mr. Rathaway, Miss Snow, Mr. Walker, and Mr. Jesse," Stein rattled off their current lineup, counting on his fingers as he went along. "Ten delinquents of various calibers." 

"Ten is a good number," Mick grunted approvingly. 

Len's thoughts drifted back to Saints and Sinners, thinking of Barry. Ten was good, but eleven would be better. He dismissed even suggesting it, rubbing his hands together, his eyes bright with the anticipation of his masterpiece finally coming together. 

"Perfect," Len drawled, "Ten it is." 

"Go on then," Stein said, waving them away, "Time to gather up your little gallery of rogues. We'll meet back here once you have them all assembled and we can review this insane plan of yours together." 

"Thank you, Martin," Len said with a nod of his head, "We'll be in touch." 

"See you soon, you ol' wrinkly balled prick," Mick laughed as they took their leave. 

Stein cackled, calling out after him, "Farewell, my primitive feeble-minded odorous friend!" 

Bringing the crew together was a grand adventure all on its own. 

Mick and Len got started the very next morning, driving all over the state to collect their rogues. 

Recruiting Hartley Rathaway was the first and by far the easiest. He was already saying yes before Len even told him what the job was. He was eager to get back to work since his brush with the law, and was more than happy to offer his services. 

Mark Mardon and Kyle Nimbus were much more difficult. Neither cared for Len's cool and smug attitude, but the rum he'd brought over as Lisa had suggested helped to ease the tension. Mick's jokes were an added bonus, and everything seemed to be going all right. 

As the rum was consumed, Nimbus suddenly accused Mardon of flirting with Len. Mardon quickly countered by shouting out a long list of totally unrelated grievances, everything from Nimbus leaving dirty dishes in the sink to forgetting their most recent anniversary. 

Nimbus pointed out that Mardon still hadn't answered the question, and that was when Mardon punched him right in the mouth. 

The pair began to trade blows and kicks, dragging one another down to the floor. Len moved to intervene, but Mick stopped him with a shake of his head. They let the boys duke it out and didn't leave until clothes started to come off. The fight was clearly evolving into something else entirely, Len and Mick leaving promptly to give them some privacy. 

A few hours later, Nimbus called. He was much calmer, telling Len that he and Mardon would be more than happy to join their crew. 

Mick went by himself to talk to Caitlyn, leaving Len behind at Saints and Sinners to wait. He didn't mind. It gave him time to hopelessly flirt with Barry and drink more martinis than he probably should have. 

Len was surprised by his friend's infatuation, drunkenly wondering if Caitlyn was going to be the special lady to finally win out over the El Camino for Mick's affection. 

Mick returned absolutely triumphant and with the faint hint of red lipstick on his cheek. Apparently, Mick had also made quite the impression, and Caitlyn was on board. 

Getting into Axel's show was easy enough, although Len balked at the price of the tickets. It was actually a very erotic and impressive presentation, worth every penny, and Len briefly thought about bringing Barry here if he ever agreed to go on a date with him. 

Axel took some convincing to join them. He had been doing very well with the show, and he didn't want to give up a legitimate career. He sounded like Barry, Len realized with a fond smirk. Trying to stay on the straight and narrow path, be a good and law abiding citizen. 

Once Len informed him of the possible payout, Axel crumbled immediately. He insisted on including his father as expected, and Len agreed. 

All of the players were finally in place, and they were ready to begin. 

Snart's Eleven. 

No, he reminded himself with a pout, only ten. 

Eleven definitely sounded better, though. 


	3. Make The Plan

The night to present Len's masterpiece had finally arrived. 

Lisa and Len were early, taking full advantage of the open bar. They shared a toast with Stein and waited for the rest of the Rogues to arrive. 

Mick showed up with Caitlyn Snow on his arm, a petite woman with platinum blonde hair and bright eyes. The introductions were brief, Lisa and Caitlyn immediately hitting it off while they discussed various implements of destruction. 

Lisa was showing off the stiletto blade hidden in her heel while Caitlyn gushed that her lipstick could be made into an explosive with the correct ratio of table salt. 

Mardon and Nimbus were there next, Nimbus' lip still healing from their last scuffle. They were both smiling and flushed, certainly from a very recent tryst. Probably in the car, if Len had to guess, given the rumpled nature of their clothes. 

They greeted everyone politely before making their way over to the buffet of food to start feasting. 

Hartley arrived after that, mumbling a quick hello and darting inside to get the presentation for the evening set up. He was much more comfortable with his computers than being around so many people, choosing to remain on his laptop instead of socializing. 

Axel Walker and James Jesse were late, arguing fiercely about who was responsible for their tardiness as they came up to join the others. Mick calmed them both with a drink and a smile, cheerfully leading them around to meet everyone. 

The group mingled for a while, food was enjoyed, and drinks were poured with heavy hands. Len glanced at his watch, and looked over at Stein who gave him a strict nod. 

It was time. 

"Everyone's had a chance to eat?" Len called out, eager to begin, his eyes moving over his various criminal compatriots. He snorted when he saw Mick swaying a little where he stood next to Caitlyn. "Mmmm. Everyone sober?" 

Mick glanced at his glass, probably his fifth of the evening, tilting his hand back and forth to indicate a so-so level of sobriety. 

"Good enough," Len said with a brief smirk. He was all business now, his voice loud and clear, announcing firmly, "What I am going to propose to you all is both highly dangerous and extremely lucrative. The risk is immense, but so is the reward. If anyone wants out, now is the time. But once you're out, you're out... if you're still interested, please join me inside." 

Len didn't say another word, heading into Stein's massive and plush lounge where Hartley had been patiently waiting for them. There was a large flatscreen mounted above the fireplace, a cord running down to the laptop Hartley had resting on his knees. 

Len stood by the mantle, smiling smugly as he watched everyone file in, taking their time to find a place to sit. Once everyone seemed to be settled, he nodded at Hartley and pointed to the screen. 

"Ladies and gentleman," Len began smoothly, "Thank you all for coming." The flatscreen flickered to life and images of the targeted casinos flashing up. "May I present to you the 3000 block of Las Vegas. The Mirage, MGM Grand, and the Bellagio. Three of the most profitable casinos in the city." 

The screen changed again, now showing the blueprints of an elaborate tunnel system and a massive vault. 

"This is the Bellagio vault," Len went on, "Every little penny from all three casinos jingles its way right down here, two hundred feet below street level. This is our target. Thanks to my darling sister, a dealer at the Bellagio, we have security footage from all three casinos." 

Video began to play on cue, showing the various tunnel hallways all leading down to a single elevator that descended into the vault. 

"The security system is quite impressive," Len went on, "Each door that you see requires a six digit code that's changed every twelve hours. Access to the elevator requires both vocal and fingerprint confirmation. The shaft itself is protected by motion detectors. Any attempt at manual override will lock down the elevator." 

"Trapping whoever's inside," Mick grumbled. 

"Exactly," Len confirmed quickly, continuing, "Now, the vault is one of the most highly sophisticated and advanced that has ever been constructed. The inside is rigged with floor motion detectors and every inch of it is under heavy surveillance. There are eight cameras dedicated to the interior of the vault alone. Oh, and it's guarded by three armed men at all times." 

"I'm going to assume there's a pretty silver lining somewhere in this mess?" Caitlyn piped up, her tone dry, tilting her head to the side thoughtfully. 

"Yes," Len said impatiently, taking a deep breath before he continued, "The Nevada Gaming Commission requires casinos to have cash on hand for every chip at play on their floors. On a week night, probably around sixty million. Weekend? Perhaps up to ninety million. But on a fight night, like the night we're going to rob it? Over a hundred and eighty million." 

Nimbus whistled sharply, grinning greedily at Mardon. 

Axel was practically bouncing in his seat to hear that sweet number again. 

"A very generous split for us all," Len purred smugly, swearing he could smell the avarice rising in the room. Everyone looked excited and eager, ready to pounce. "But now, you all may be asking yourselves, how are we going to get through the nasty labyrinth of security, down the impossible elevator, and into the impregnable vault?" 

"Mmmm, I am just a wee bit curious," James giggled softly. 

"I've had four years to plan this," Len said smoothly, "And this is how it's going to go down. Each of you has a vital role to play, so please, pay close attention. 

"Caitlyn, you're our munitions expert. I will need you to be able to create a few bombs for us. I need one big enough to destroy a van, the second needs to have enough flash to burn up six duffel bags full of very dense paper. The third and most vital is an explosive device that will knock out the floor sensors within the vault. It needs to be small, very small. I will also need you to blow the power grid and take out the casino's electricity." 

"Making the bombs and turning off the power is easy enough," Caitlyn drawled, "But how small are we talking for the vault explosives?" 

"Small enough to be concealed inside a gem about the size of a baseball. Something very pretty." 

"All right," Caitlyn replied with a purse of her lips, "I can definitely cook something up for you." 

"Mardon, Nimbus. We will need two vans. One will need to be able to operate remotely without a driver. You'll work with Caitlyn on getting the explosives set up as well. Don't get too attached to the van because we are going to blow it up. The second? I need you boys to make me a SWAT van and get your hands on some gear for all of us." 

"I know a guy," Nimbus mused, "Can hook us up with all the legit gear, weapons, and the vehicles. He owes me and Mardon some pretty big favors. We will need cash to cover the cost of the remote upgrades for the sacrificial van, though." 

"Done. James Jesse, you're going to be our face man. Pick a character, someone pushy and needy. We're going to set you up at the Mirage, and I need you to get very comfortable there." 

"Oh, please, twist my arm to play dress up and stay at a five star hotel," James snickered with a wave of his hand, "It'll be an Oscar worthy performance, I assure you." 

"Of that, I have no doubt," Len said with a smirk, "Hartley, I need you to tap into the security camera feeds. It is vital that we can control exactly what they're seeing." 

"I can stream hours of endless tentacle porn for them if you want me to," Hartley snorted. "Whatever we need." 

"I also will require you to be able to intercept any outgoing phone calls, particularly any of the emergency response variety." 

"Can do," Hartley said, giving him a firm thumb's up. He looked disappointed, clearly the task that Len had given him was not nearly challenging enough. 

"Mick," Len said, addressing his friend with a fond smile, "You're with me on construction. Lisa? You, too. We have to create an exact replica of the Bellagio vault, elevator, and the hallways outside. It doesn't need to be functional, but it must be identical to the one at the casino." He glanced at Hartley. "I'll also need you to fit our little reconstruction with cameras at the exact same angles as the feeds at the casino." 

Mick and Hartley both nodded their understanding, Axel whining impatiently, "Well, what about me, Lenny? What the hell am I gonna be doing?" 

"I'm getting to that," Len soothed, "Now, the night of the fight, this is what's going to happen. A case will be delivered for James-" 

"Pierre Canard en Caoutchouc," James interjected in a heavy French accent. 

"What?" 

"That is my name," James replied in the same ridiculous voice, "I am going to be Pierre Canard en Caoutchouc." 

"Fine," Len griped between gritted teeth, " _Pierre_ will receive a special case containing the special explosives disguised as gems. Having spent a good bit of money and being quite friendly, you'll convince the manager to keep your valuables in the Bellagio vault instead of the house safe. They will not let you escort the case down to the vault, but you will insist on watching the transfer. 

"Our transport team, Mardon and Nimbus, will deliver our greaseman in a chip cart for the casino staff to place inside the vault. That's you, of course, Axel. Once Axel is inside the vault, our new friend Pierre will create a distraction, allowing Hartley to switch over our fake camera feeds so we can work without being detected. 

"All the security team will see is their precious vault, our reproduction, empty of criminals and totally secure. Caitlyn will then blow the power. There is a two minute window before security resets after a power outage, two minutes for me and Mick to get down the elevator and take out the guards. From within the vault, Axel will disable the floor sensors and I will crack the vault. 

"Once we're inside, it's time to give Mr. Thawne a call." 

"You're going to call the man we're robbing?" Mardon asked dubiously. 

"Oh, definitely. We're going to make a deal with him because we still need a way to get out of the vault with all of that money. Mick and I are not coming down the elevator empty-handed. We're going to have duffel bags with us, six stuffed full of enough cardboard to mimic the weight of cash, plus a dozen more to carry out the real money. We will tell Thawne that we're going to let him keep half of his money if he lets us take the other half. Eighty million is plenty for us, we'll say. 

"We instruct him to have his men carry out the dummy bags out to the remote controlled van and let us leave the casino unharmed. If he doesn't, we threaten to blow it all. Once he complies, which he will, it's time for the rest of the team to join us. Thawne is not going to be happy, not at all. He would much rather let us blow up every last dime than let us rob him. He is definitely going to have the van followed, and he will absolutely call the police..." 

"And we will be receiving that phone call," Nimbus said, clearly amused with how the plan was all coming together. 

"Exactly," Len chuckled, "The remainder of the team will respond in full SWAT regalia to take back the vault from our own people. You'll be bringing gear for the rest of us for a quick costume change. A few flashbangs here, some smoke and fake gunfire, and we all leave the casino as officers of the law, duffel bags in hand." 

"Duffel bags that are actually full of cash?" Axel squealed excitedly. 

"You got it," Len said with a proud smile, "We blow the dummy van to keep Thawne's men off our trail and occupy the cops, and we'll be out of the city before anyone even realizes what's happened. And then, my friends, we are all much, much richer." 

"That's a hell of a plan," Stein said, the first time he had spoken up all evening. He lifted up his glass to Len in a toast, giving him a smile of approval that Len never thought this man would give him. 

"Only took me four years to come up with it," Len said with a big grin, enjoying the praise. "We have a lot of preparation to do, and I expect everyone to stay on schedule. The fight is on Saturday, in less than two weeks, and we-" 

"Problem," Hartley said, peering up at Len with a grimace. 

"What sort of problem?" Len demanded sharply. 

"You've been in prison for four years, that's the problem," Hartley replied, tapping away at his laptop, "The security at the casinos has made some upgrades in the last few months. Nothing that would interfere with your grand plan, you know, except for the backup generator that eliminates the two minute window of opportunity for getting down the elevator shaft." 

"No way to bypass it remotely?" Len demanded, gritting his teeth together. He could see his masterpiece starting to fall apart right in front of his eyes, and he refused to let it go. 

He had come too far. 

There had to be a way. 

"No," Hartley said with a quick shake of his head, "The only way is from Thawne's office inside his private suite with his own personal keycard. He wanted all of the control right there at his fingertips. No else has a card except possibly the casino floor manager." 

"Hunter Zolomon," Lisa griped softly, "He is a fuckin' stone. Cold and clean. I don't see any way to get to him." 

"Why think so small, dear sister," Len scoffed, "Why not go directly after Thawne himself? You've worked at the Bellagio for a while. You must know Thawne's routine. There has to be a way to get at him, some time when he's vulnerable." 

"Yeah, the man is like a freakin' machine," Lisa replied, "You can set your watch by him. He hits the floor at seven o'clock, meets up with his date at seven thirty, always provided by an escort service. They cruise the high rollers' tables until eight, and then they go upstairs to his suite for some private time. He's back downstairs by nine for another sweep, sans escort." 

"There's our opening," Len said with a flourish of his hand, "Easy enough for one of us to pose as the escort, steal the card and help create a distraction to get into that office. Disable the backup generator and the plan is back on track. Now, we just need an escort..." 

Everyone's eyes expectantly turned to Caitlyn and Lisa. 

Caitlyn scowled in disgust, protesting, "I am not going to fucking honeypot. I can blow all of your cocks off with whatever is underneath that kitchen sink. Keep that in mind." 

Mick grinned, obviously impressed and possibly aroused. 

"Thawne is a creep," Lisa snorted, smirking at Caitlyn as she added, "And don't worry, he's not much on the ladies." 

Hartley had been busy clicking away at his laptop, his brows rising in faint surprise as he said, "Yeah, it seems Thawne has a very specific and very _male_ type." 

"Mmm, time for the fellas to step up?" James chuckled deliriously. 

"Mmhmm," Hartley nodded, "I hacked into the escort service records to see what Thawne usually orders up. Male, tall, thin, pretty." 

Leonard and Axel glanced at each other skeptically as they seemed to be the only two who seemed to fit the description. 

"Young," Hartley added, smirking a little at Len's graying hair. "And sorry, Axel. Hate to say it... You may not be quite pretty enough." 

Axel looked offended, pouting as he demanded, "Well, why the hell not?" 

Hartley clicked and a beautiful collection of lovely young men in feminine attire on display popped up on the flatscreen. "Are you pretty enough to walk in heels?" 

"I'm a fuckin' acrobat," Axel argued, "It can't be that damn hard." 

"But you're a shit pickpocket, son," James pointed out, "All thumbs. We'll need an especially slippery touch for this eel." 

Len could feel Mick and Lisa staring at him so hard that he thought his forehead was going to catch on fire. He knew exactly what they were thinking, finally drawling, "I may know someone. Very pretty and very fast... it may take some convincing, but I'm sure I can get him to join us."


	4. Execute the Plan

"No," Barry replied flatly. 

"But you haven't even-" Len protested. 

"No!" Barry snapped, a little angrier now. 

Len stuck out his lower lip and briefly considered begging. Maybe getting on his knees and offering obscene sexual favors. Maybe pledging a vow of marriage. He hated to feel this desperate, but everything else about his plan had already fallen perfectly in place except for this last pivotal role. 

Barry was the missing piece. 

Len had left Stein's and headed right over to Saints and Sinners, determined to sway Barry to join them. He drank more than he should have and hung around until closing before he approached Barry with the job offer. He had barely finished describing the final act of his masterpiece before Barry was already turning him down. 

"Do you have any idea how much trouble we would be in if we got caught?" Barry demanded, turning around to grab a bottle from beneath the bar. "Pissing off a guy like Thawne would be even worse than jail!" 

Len could see the lace tops of Barry's black thigh highs peeking out from beneath the edge of his leather skirt when he bent over, trying not to stare. He noticed that the lace matched the bralette Barry was wearing, visible through the thin fabric of the white off the shoulder top draped over his thin frame. 

Len wondered if his panties matched as well. 

"Eyes up here, Len," Barry said with a snap of his fingers. 

"We won't get caught," Len assured him, still admiring Barry's legs, "I already told you we're going to make sure you're absolutely safe. Everything in the escort records indicates Thawne likes to have a few drinks first, then he'll want to watch you strip-" 

"Jesus duck shitting Christ." 

"And he always requests a lap dance before getting down to business. We will have the room under constant surveillance and we will make our move before he can even unzip his fly. It's going to work." 

Barry poured a shot of whisky, chugging it back with a grimace. 

"You're the only one I know who could possibly pull this off," Len went on, "You're still the Flash, Barry. No one has a quicker touch than you do. You are exactly Thawne's type, and I know you've honeypotted before." 

Barry's face flushed, stammering, "Th-that was a long time ago! And fuck, Thawne is going to be expecting a professional escort! I don't know if I can give a damn stranger a freakin' lap dance!" He took another shot. "I'd be a nervous mess!" 

"I can teach you," Len insisted, pulling the bottle away long to pour some for himself, "All it takes is confidence, and you, Mr. Allen, have that in spades." 

Barry scoffed, choosing to sip his next shot, waiting for the praise he knew was coming. Judging by the bitter expression on his face, he was expecting to hear something shallow. 

"Barry," Len said firmly, "I've watched you run this place practically by yourself for years. Serving drinks, running the bar, and working tables all at the same time with seven inch heels on and never missing a beat. You strut the floor of this skanky bar like you're on the runway in Milan, and you carry yourself like an Amazon warrior ready to go to war. 

"You refuse to take any of kind of shit from anyone, you remember every regular's name and what they drink, and you always make sure they get home safely if they get too fucked up. The most beautiful thing about you is that you truly have no idea just how incredible you are. You're amazing, Barry." 

Barry's ears pinked, surprised by the emotional depth of the flattery. He obviously wasn't prepared for it, blinking for a long moment, saying quietly, "You really think all that... about me?" 

"Yes," Len replied, his tongue loosened by the alcohol and his stomach warmed by Barry's hopeful gaze. 

"Thank you," Barry murmured softly, finishing off the shot and pouring them both another drink. "It's easy to be brave here, you know. It's easy to be myself; more than that, it's _safe_ here." He gestured towards the front door, continuing on, "Out there, not so much. Out there, I'm a freak." 

"I think you're fucking beautiful," Len said honestly. 

"I think you're drunk," Barry replied, but he was very pleased by the sincerity of the compliment. 

"You're fucking perfect," Len went on, gulping down his alcohol to add, "And perfect for this heist. This job will set you and your mother up for life, I promise you. You haven't even asked what the payout is, don't think I haven't noticed." 

Barry's mouth turned down a little at the corners at the mention of his mother. He anxiously tapped his glass against the counter before drinking it down, saying quietly, "Because no amount of money is worth leaving my mother alone." 

"Not even a take of a hundred and eighty million dollars?" 

Barry immediately gagged, his eyes wide and gawking, gasping, "Hundred... eighty... million..." 

"Uh huh," Len said, loving the stunned look on Barry's face as he leaned across the bar. 

Barry drank straight from the bottle, blinking several times and scratching at the back of his neck as he wrestled with the decision. 

It was clear that he was tempted. 

"I'll make a deal with you," Len said slowly, drumming his fingers across the bar. "I still have a nice little stash left over in a Swiss bank account from the last job I pulled before I went to prison. I'll put the account in your mother's name." 

"Len," Barry warned, his eyes widening, "No, don't do that. You don't have to-" 

"But I will," Len insisted fiercely. "If worrying about your mother is the only thing holding you back, then allow me to remove the obstacle." 

"You really want me that badly?" Barry said breathlessly. 

"Yes," Len answered earnestly, and they both knew he wasn't only talking about the heist. "Let me do this for you. No matter what happens, your mother will be taken care of properly." 

"Fine," Barry replied, a little bit of a sway in his hips. He hadn't turned off the music yet, moving slowly to the bass, "I'm in. I'll do it." 

Len wanted to kiss him. 

Barry scrubbed his hands across his face, groaning loudly, "Oh, this is so dumb. But, oh, fuck. That's so much money. I can't believe I'm doing this..." He dropped his hands, all business as he sharply demanded, "You're taking me shopping." 

"What?" Len blinked. 

"This is for Eobard Thawne," Barry snapped as if it was obvious, "I can guarantee that his escorts are normally dripping in Gucci and Dolce, and my trashy punk hooker wardrobe is not gonna cut it." 

"Two seconds you were freaking out about giving a lap dance," Len snorted, "Now you're worried about what you're going to wear?" 

"Yes," Barry groaned impatiently. 

"I happen to like your trashy hooker wardrobe," Len said, earning himself another eye roll. He sighed, throwing his hands up as he said, "Fine, yes, shopping. I'll send Lisa with you. Whatever you want." 

"And the lap dance lessons?" Barry giggled. "Gonna send Lisa with me for those? Oh, ohhh, maybe Mick?" 

"No," Len said quickly, shaking his head firmly as he tried to stomp down an obvious spike of jealousy, "I'll handle those personally." 

"Ha! When? You know, I don't really-" 

"Right now," Len cut in, stumbling from his barstool towards one of the booths. He pulled the table out of the way, plopping down against the vinyl and leaned back, spreading his legs invitingly. 

Barry watched him with bright eyes, moving around the bar carefully. He was both predator and prey, stalking Len very purposely and yet still quite apprehensive. "Right now?" 

"Yes. Now. Seduce me," Len breathed softly, his eyes moving ravenously over Barry as he approached him. He didn't bother hiding his obvious desire, smiling as Barry got closer. 

Barry walked slowly, his heels clicking with each slow pulse of the bass. His body was graceful, but his expression was too tense, too tight. 

"Relax," Len urged gently, "You look like you're heading into war." 

"Well, you did say I look like an Amazon," Barry reminded as he delicately slid into Len's lap, straddling his thighs. The booth creaked softly, holding onto the back of the seat to keep himself steady. 

His weight felt good, Len's hands settling easily on Barry's hips. 

Barry smiled sweetly, surprisingly more at ease when Len touched him. 

"You have to be charming, but not too obvious," Len said quietly, trying to keep his voice even, "Thawne is a talker, remember that. He may ask you questions. Don't look down, he'll know you're lying. But don't look up because then he'll know-" 

"Yeah, he'll know that I don't know," Barry cut in gently, his brows arching up with a smirk. "Not my first rodeo." 

"Just your first lap dance?" 

"What if it is?" 

"I'm a great teacher." 

"I'm a quick study," Barry quipped back, smirking softly. 

"I know. You can handle this. Be seductive, but not too slutty. You have to be there to please him, but not fuck him. Even though he will be expecting you to." 

"Yeah?" Barry said, his voice husky in such an unexpected way that it made Len's loins twitch. "So... a very sophisticated cocktease who's gonna eventually put out?" 

"Yes," Len confirmed, trying to will his dick to stand down. This was Barry, gorgeous and perfect Barry. He had literally been waiting years to have him like this, but it still didn't feel appropriate to make a move. 

Not now. 

Even when Barry's hands worked up Len's chest, his long nails clawing lightly at the back of his neck, he fought to keep control. This was about the heist. The job. 

"Less nails," Len commented lightly, "Feels too personal." 

"It doesn't feel good?" 

"No, it feels fucking fantastic," Len admitted, "But this is too intimate for Thawne. Hartley checked into some things, looked up the escort comment cards. He rarely ever has the same guy twice. One he refused to ever see again because they touched him too much." 

"Less petting, more humping?" Barry clarified, settling his hands back to the booth and grinding his body down slowly. 

"Yes," Len said, using all of his willpower for his voice not to crack. 

As Barry's hips rolled forward, it forced the edge of his skirt to ride up. Len could clearly see the top of the lace stockings, the attached garters snaking up his delicious thighs. Higher and higher it went until Len was met with a teasing glimpse of Barry's panties. 

He was very pleased to see that they indeed matched the rest of his lingerie. 

"How's this?" Barry asked, his voice soft and peering at Len, his eyes half closed. 

"Pretty good," Len replied, squeezing Barry's hips and pulling him closer. It was useless to hide how hard he was, his hands slowly fanning up Barry's back. 

Barry moved his body with more purpose, trying to stay on rhythm, gasping when his ass rolled over Len's cock. He tilted his hips, very carefully settling the bulge right between his cheeks and rubbing down. "Why, Len..." he teased coyly. "Enjoying yourself?" 

"A bit," Len replied, involuntarily twitching. 

Barry's eyes moved over Len's lips, asking, "Mmm, any suggestions as to how I can improve?" 

"No, no. You're doing very, very well," Len replied, unable to stop his hips from rutting up against Barry as he tried to adjust himself. 

The resulting friction made Barry gasp, his hands grabbing onto Len's shirt collar. The way they were moving now was a perfect imitation of sex, Len damning all the clothes still between them. It was hotter than it had any right to be, Barry's face flushed and warm and Len resisting the urge to kiss him. 

Barry's head tilted back, grinding his ass down even harder, a small moan leaving his lips as his eyes fluttered closed. He looked absolutely divine, the collar of his shirt dropping further off his shoulder until Len could see the edge of his bra cup. He became entranced with the line of Barry's collarbone as he rolled his shoulders, grunting when his long nails pressed into his chest. 

"Remember," Len said breathlessly, a hand sliding dangerously high up Barry's thigh, his thumb tracing over the edge of his stocking, "Thawne doesn't want to be touched." 

"Oh, of course," Barry purred deliciously, "Just making sure you were paying attention." He slid his hands up through Len's hair, lazily running his nails over his short hair, asking softly ,"So, he definitely would not like this, right?" 

"Definitely not." 

Barry was still grinding close, pressing his forehead against Len's, his hands moving to tenderly cradle his face, his breath hot and smelling of whisky as he whispered coyly, "Or this?" 

"Not at all," Len sighed, his thumb rising higher still until he found the lace trim of Barry's panties and rubbed there slowly. "Terrible idea, absolutely don't do that." 

"And he definitely wouldn't like it if I tried to kiss him, right?" Barry went on, gazing at Len through his lashes and glancing down at his lips. 

"Would fucking hate it," Len agreed, squeezing Barry's thigh gently, his blood thumping loudly in his ears until all he could think about was that they were a breath away from their lips touching. 

"Good!" Barry chirped brightly, suddenly pulled away, crawling out of Len's lap with a pleased little sigh. "I think I've got a pretty good idea of what I'm gonna do. I'll let you know if I want to practice again." 

Len grunted, the spell broken, realizing he had been completely conned. He glared up at Barry, though there was no real wrath behind it. "You've definitely given a lap dance before," he remarked, concentrating on redirecting blood flow away from his erection, "Haven't you?" 

"Maybe once or twice," Barry said coyly, winking as he readjusted his skirt and stockings. "I said that I hadn't ever given a stranger a lap dance; you're the one that assumed I hadn't done it at all." 

"You are a wicked, cruel man." Len didn't move from the booth, his cock still in the mood to misbehave, laughing softly as he patted himself down. "And you've got my wallet again, don't you?" 

Barry grinned, slyly producing Len's wallet from wherever he had magically hidden it away. "Sure do," he teased, handing it over, "They don't call me the Flash for nothin'." 

Len gently grabbed Barry's hand as he took the wallet back, his thumb idly rubbing over the underside of his wrist as he said, "You know... if you tried to kiss me? I wouldn't hate it at all." 

Barry's cheeks flushed, humming, "Mmm, well. I'll have to keep that in mind..." He hadn't pulled his hand away yet. "If I ever feel like trying, you'll be the first to know." 

"Why won't you go out with me, Barry?" Len asked earnestly, tired of dancing around the issue. They were both obviously attracted to each other, what was the problem. 

"Because you're a very bad idea," Barry replied with a shy smile, "You always have been. And I don't have time to waste on bad ideas." 

"If I make you a millionaire, you'll have plenty of time," Len countered. 

Barry groaned lightly, giving Len's hand a little squeeze as he finally gave in, saying, "All right. Fine. If this plan of yours doesn't go completely to shit... I will go out with you. One date." 

"One date," Len breathed out triumphantly. He stood up, sweetly kissing Barry's cheek. "Trust me, that's all I'll need." 

"We'll see," Barry said smugly, his eyes glittering with the promise of mischief sure to come, "Now, I think we have some casinos to rob, don't we?" 

"Why, yes, we do," Len purred. 

They were now at eleven. 

Snart's Eleven. 

Perfect. 


	5. Expect The Plan To Go Off The Rails

The weeks leading up the night of championship fight were busy for all of Snart's Eleven. 

Stein provided a warehouse where Mick and Len spent countless days tirelessly building the duplicate vault. Every detail had to be absolutely perfect, and Lisa was there to help iron out all the finishing touches. 

Nimbus and Mardon brought the vehicles to the warehouse to do the necessary modifications, their time spent alternating between fighting, working, or fucking. Len was fairly certain they'd done that last one in the remote controlled van more times than he could count, grateful Caitlyn was building a bomb big enough to take out all that DNA evidence along with it. 

Caitlyn did all of her work at her own private lab, but she brought the final results to the warehouse with a proud smile. The bombs were petite, but Len knew they'd have the proper punch they needed. The explosive gems she'd created were a true work of art. 

Crafted to resemble two large diamonds, Caitlyn explained that each held half of a very volatile compound. The gems had to be broken apart and their insides combined to create the bomb, and she promised it would be more than enough to take out the sensor in the vault. 

Hartley had been tapped into the security system for the Bellagio since the first night of the presentation, monitoring the staff routines and any increased security measures they might need to be aware of for the approaching fight. He was the only one who seemed to be bored. 

When the fake vault was completed, Axel practiced daily how he could wiggle out of the chip cart and majestically flip to the shelf by the door without ever touching the floor. He kept the cart moving constantly, making sure he could nail the jump no matter where the casino staff left the cart. His routines were closely watched by Hartley, who blushed and simply insisted he was checking out the camera angles to make sure they were perfect. 

As the big night drew closer, James got settled in at the hotel. He was fully dedicated to the character of Pierre, throwing enough money around to be on a first name basis with all the staff and to attract Thawne's attention during his nightly rounds. 

Stein supplied the money; paid for the modifications for the van, the construction of the vault, supplied James' cash for the casino and his hotel, and he even footed the bill for Barry's new outfit. He didn't bat an eye at a single digit spent, every dime only bringing him closer to visiting sweet vengeance upon his enemy. 

Everything was going beautifully. 

Speaking of beautiful, Barry and Lisa had gone shopping together to pick out his attire for his big date with Thawne. Len hadn't seen Barry since the night he'd agreed to join them, his heart twitching a bit faster when he saw that pretty mug of his strolling into the warehouse with Lisa. 

They were arm in arm, laughing deliriously together as their heels clattered excitedly across the concrete floor. 

Barry was decked out in ripped denim shorts that showcased the full length of his gorgeous legs and a torn v-neck shirt allowing a peek at the red lace of his bra underneath. Slick peep-toe heels were the order of the day, a deep scarlet to doubtlessly match his lingerie. 

Lisa was carrying a few shopping bags, and Barry had a large garment bag draped over his shoulder. 

Barry paused to flash Len a sweet smile before teasing, "Gonna catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that." 

"What can I say," Len purred, "I'm enjoying the view. Did you find something pretty?" 

"Very," Barry replied, beaming smugly. 

"And you, sister?" Len asked, smirking at all of Lisa's bags. 

Lisa had her own special role to play in the revised version of Len's plan. She was going to force her way to Thawne's private suite to interrupt his date with Barry, flashing a fake badge at anyone who got in her way. She would be posing as a detective, and she was going to arrest Barry for prostitution. 

She would take him to Thawne's private office to interrogate him and from there, Barry would give her the keycard to disable to backup generator. This would allow them to regain that crucial two minute window after the power was taken out to get down the elevator shaft. 

"Mmm, very conservative and definitely not as pretty as Barry's dress," Lisa replied with a roll of her eyes, "How's everything going here?" 

"Splendid," Len drawled with a happy smile, "Our surveillance is in place, construction is complete, and all of our toys are ready to play with." He let his eyes linger on Barry, hungry for a moment before adding innocently, "Everything is right on schedule. Now, all we have to do is wait." 

The days before the fight were utilized putting the finishing touches on every last minuscule detail of the vault, meticulously checking the plan over and over again until Len was completely satisfied. He even forced them to run several rehearsals before he decided they were ready. 

Finally, it was time. 

At precisely five thirty on the night of the heavyweight championship fight, the team all met in James' hotel room for makeup and costume. Tonight was going to be the performance of their lives and the rewards great if they were to succeed. 

James' room would serve as their headquarters to coordinate every crucial step of Len's beautiful masterpiece. 

Hartley sat down before a massive collection of computer screens feeding him images of multiple angles of the casino, vault, and all the hallways in between. He slid on his headset as if it were a helmet, silently preparing himself for the battle ahead. 

James, better known as Pierre now, went downstairs and took his position at the high rollers' table by six o'clock. He had made this a habit every day, announcing his presence loudly and buying everyone a round of drinks. 

Caitlyn was already on her way to hide deep beneath the city in the sewers to place one of her precious bombs to blow the power for the entire block on Len's command. 

Lisa took over the bathroom to transform herself with a blonde wig, thick glasses, and a navy pantsuit into a very official looking woman of authority. 

She wished everyone good luck, blew Len a kiss, and headed downstairs to take her position in the casino. 

Mick took his turn to get dressed, emerging in a fine suit and carrying the case that held the explosive gems. He left the casino to wait for the delivery time, standing by a few blocks away in a rented car. 

Barry had squirreled himself away in the bathroom when Mick was done, preparing for his date. Len could hear him singing in the shower, and did his best to ignore thoughts of that gorgeous naked body tucked up under the rush of hot water. 

Axel limbered up, stretching his lithe form all around the room until he made Hartley blush, finally resigning himself to being crammed inside the change cart. 

Precisely at seven o'clock, right when Thawne himself would be hitting the floor, Mardon and Nimbus were rolling a very contorted Axel towards the cage entrance of the Bellagio disguised as casino staff members. 

Snart watched the show through the computer screens, Mardon fiercely screaming at Nimbus for forgetting their security pass and Nimbus' voice rising just as quickly. 

They were creating quite the scene, their passionate fighting was drawing too much attention and forcing the staff to quickly make the decision to accept the cart and take it down to the vault. Mardon and Nimbus were both grateful, exiting quickly. 

They parted ways with a kiss, Mardon going to take his place with the remote controlled van and Nimbus leaving to meet up with Stein. 

Stein's face was far too well known to actively participate in the heist. He would be waiting for Nimbus at a secure location to help prep the SWAT van and get all of their gear ready. 

Fifteen minutes after seven, Mick was delivering the package of explosive gems to James who quickly insisted on storing his valuables in the vault as planned. He demanded to speak to whoever was in charge, Hunter Zolomon coming down as predicted to talk to him him. 

Hunter seemed apprehensive, but he finally agreed. He knew how much money James had spent here, and he wanted to make their very generous customer happy. 

James insisted on accompanying his precious package, throwing a grand hissy fit when Hunter told him that wasn't possible. James began to drunkenly scream in French until Hunter said he could watch the transfer into the vault from their security room. 

James immediately quieted, sniffed, and told him that would be sufficient, following Hunter into the restricted area of the casino. 

Snart smirked at the monitor view as Hunter thoroughly checked the case, confident that he would find nothing there. 

Caitlyn was too good for that. 

Deeming it safe, Hunter instructed the staff to take it down to the vault along with the recently arrived change cart with Axel inside. 

Len could feel his skin tingling, biting at his lip anxiously as he glanced at his watch. It was almost time for Barry to make his grand debut, but he still hadn't come out of the damn bathroom. 

He knocked on the door, calling out, "Everything all right?" 

"Can't rush perfection, Len!" Barry snapped ferociously. 

"When we're on a schedule that I have planned down to the second, yes, I can," Len retorted impatiently. 

"Hold on!" Barry griped, the knob rattling as he finally swung open the door. He stepped out to face Len, his hands planted firmly on his hips while he waited for him to take in the entire view, huffing, "Well?" 

The dress was red satin, strapless, empire cut and flattered Barry's lean figure. Folds of fabric extending from the bust line were draped around Barry's slender arms to the small of his back where they were woven together, pouring down like a scarlet waterfall to the edge of the skirt. His earrings were golden chandeliers with glittering garnets, though he wore no necklace which allowed the full view of his delicate collarbones to be fully appreciated. 

When he stepped towards Len for closer inspection, he noted a gold heel, sparkling and sharp. Barry's lips were painted the same of red as his dress, his lashes dark and full. He had brushed his bangs down over his forehead, soft and sweeping and pinned behind his ear with a glittering barrette. 

Every detail was flawless, and Len swore he had never seen Barry look so stunning. 

"Entirely worth the wait," Len couldn't help but purr, taking Barry's hand in his own, sweeping a brief kiss across his knuckles. 

Barry beamed, a faint blush rising beneath the layer of foundation he had put on, allowing Len to hold his hand even after the kiss had lost its warmth. He smirked, teasing, "Are you sure you're going to be able to handle this? Watching Thawne paw at me?" 

"Knowing what's at stake," Len replied, "Yes." 

"Millions of dollars?" 

"Our date," Len said smugly, giving Barry's hand a gentle squeeze. 

"Ha!" Barry laughed sweetly and tilted his head towards Len, suggesting, "Kiss for luck?" 

Obviously, he had intended for Len to kiss his cheek, but that simply wouldn't do. 

Not for tonight. 

Len gently touched Barry's chin, leaning in close and redirecting him to meet his lips instead. 

"Len?" Barry sighed, only a mere breath away from kissing, his eyes fluttering before firmly warning, "If you smear my lipstick-" 

"I won't." 

"-And I have to go back in that bathroom and fix it-" 

"On my honor." 

"-I am going to be late. And it will be all your fault." 

"I will be so very careful," Len assured him, his arm winding around Barry's little waist, "I did say if you tried to kiss me that I wouldn't hate it..." 

"You realize that this is you trying to kiss me?" Barry snorted, but allowed himself to pulled in. His hands lightly rested on Len's chest, agreeing begrudgingly, "Okay, fine. Do it before I change my mind, and don't you dare wrinkle my dress. One kiss." 

"One kiss," Len swore. 

Barry gazed down at Len, something vulnerable peeking through his rigidly tough facade as the distance between them evaporated and their lips finally pressed together in a sweet and soft kiss. 

Len's heart thumped excitedly, and he swore he heard bells ringing like a slot machine when it gave a winning payout. Not a single fantasy he had ever conjured up could compare to the incredible sensation of Barry's kiss. He tasted like warm cherries and when he made a small sound of pleasure, it sent shivers up the back of Len's neck right into his brain. 

Barry pulled away all too quickly, his eyes wide and suddenly bashful. His cheeks were flushed, smiling happily as he said, "Well, I'm feeling pretty lucky right about now." 

Len glanced at his watch, clearing his throat and murmuring, "Time to go. Or you really will be late." 

Barry winked, popping his lips together to freshen his lipstick, asking, "Good?" 

"Flawless," Len replied, noting not a bit of color was out of place. 

"See you soon," Barry said, grinning wide and taking his leave to meet up with Thawne. 

Len let out a soft sigh, glancing to the screens to check the rest of the team's progress. 

Caitlyn was waiting patiently in the sewers, Nimbus and Stein were almost done prepping the SWAT van, Mardon was checking the remote controls of the dummy van, Lisa was at the bar, Mick was on his way back upstairs, and James was still in the security room. 

Everyone was almost in position. 

Hartley cleared his throat, glancing at Len as he said, "You've got some, uh... red." 

Len touched his mouth, laughing softly as he saw a faint hint of scarlet on his fingers. 

Barry checked in at the front desk of the casino and was discreetly brought upstairs to the executive level to meet Eobard Thawne at precisely seven thirty. 

Through the cameras, Len watched Thawne greet Barry and kiss his hand, the kingpin's gaze lusty and ready to devour his evening's entertainment. He took Barry's arm, proudly leading his date around for his nightly tour of the casino. 

He was so enamored that he finished his sweep of the casino floor early, ready to leave when it was still only five minutes to eight. He was whispering something in Barry's ear that made him flush and giggle coyly. 

Mick was back, smirking at the monitors as he remarked, "Your boy's got ol' Thawne hook, line, and sinker." 

Len was inclined to agree. 

Thawne was totally smitten, his hand regularly passing over Barry's side to cup the curve of his hip. Barry leaned into his touch, batting his eyes, and Thawne was absolutely eating him up. 

Perfect, Len thought to himself, watching Barry at work. Absolutely perfect. 

At that moment, Thawne would have given Barry the moon. 

Upstairs they went to Thawne's private suites, and now it was time Mick and Len to move to the next step of the plan. 

They quickly got changed, the two of them now dressed as repairmen in grungy jumpsuits to work on the elevators. Thanks to Hartley, the elevators had been acting a little funny all evening and were apparently in dire need of service. 

The staff had called their repair company earlier and unknowingly had gotten Hartley instead. He was more than happy to immediately dispatch a service team, promising they'd arrive within the hour. 

No one questioned their credentials or the multiple large bags they were carrying as they hurried along to make the repairs. Security let them straight through without any problem, having been expecting them. 

Len checked his watch. 

Eight o'clock, time for Lisa and James to go on. 

James, still in the security room, began faking the most ridiculous and overdramatic heart attack in the history of the universe. He flailed on the floor until everyone in the room was trying to help him, desperately calling for paramedics. 

Hartley switched over the camera footage when no one was looking to the fake footage they had set up at the warehouse, allowing Mick and Len to now move freely without detection. 

After a few long moments of playing dead on the floor, James complained loudly that he was fine and it must have been something he ate. He would return to his room to rejoin Hartley while the plan kept moving forward. 

Mick quickly crawled up on top of the elevator through the access panel, grabbing the bags as Len passed them up. Len wiggled up beside him, placing the panel back in place. They got their rigging set to scale down the shaft, all hooked up and ready to go. 

Lisa would be upstairs by now, crashing Thawne's date and using the pilfered keycard to disable the backup generator at any second. 

The moment that it was disabled, he would signal Caitlyn to cut the power. The motion sensors would be deactivated for those precious two minutes for Mick and Len to get down the elevator shaft and access to vault and meet up with Axel by eight thirty. 

The rest of the plan would follow as scheduled and by nine o'clock, they would all be millionaires. 

Everything was going great, every aspect of Len's masterpiece was falling into place piece by piece, and he was ecstatic. 

Naturally, something had to go wrong. 

Len felt his phone vibrate, frowning as he pulled it out to see it was Hartley calling him. "What?" he hissed, "This had better be good." 

"We got a problem," Hartley snapped, "That creep Hunter recognized Lisa. Even with the wig and everything, he has like every staff member's face memorized. She's stuck in some stupid holding area. They're calling the police to check out her-" 

"What the fuck!" 

"Look, I'm handling it. I got the phones and intercepted the call. I have the jerk on hold, and I'll make sure Lisa's crazy undercover story she's trying to sell right now checks out," Hartley said quickly, "But, uh, things are getting pretty hot and heavy with Thawne... clothes are off, lap dance is nearly complete, and we still have to disable that backup generator!" 

"Shit, shit, shit!" 

"What's going on?" Mick grumbled impatiently. 

The gears in Len's head began to turn, scrambling to find a solution. He looked up at Mick with a very unhappy scowl, drawling, "Time to improvise."


	6. Throw Away The Plan

Len didn't exactly know what he was doing when he left the elevator. He only knew he had to do something and do it very fast. He stripped off the repairman's uniform, leaving it in a trash can as he rushed towards Thawne's private suite in only jeans and a t-shirt. 

He had no disguise, no character, and he had no clue what the hell he was going to do to fix this. 

They were running out of time, and he had to come up with something before Barry ended up forced into Thawne's bed and the entire plan fell to pieces. 

Think, think, think... 

There! 

Inspiration struck, calling Hartley back and giving him very specific instructions. Hartley told him that his idea was crazy, but it might just work. 

Hartley set off a fire alarm to draw away the security on the executive floor, Len sneaking through as each door magically unlocked at his approach. He grinned up at the cameras, knowing Hartley could see him and kept moving. 

He knew that the casino security could see him, too. They'd also realize that their system had been hacked pretty soon. For now, they'd be distracted trying to turn off the alarm, but that wouldn't last long. 

Len bolted towards the suite, panting hard and started banging loudly on the door. The locks were all manual and would only open from the inside. Hartley couldn't help him get in. 

He closed his eyes, said a silent prayer as he continued to knock furiously. 

It had to work. It just fucking had to. 

Four years of planning and plotting all hinging on whether or not one man would open a fucking door. 

Len started kicking and punching, screaming furiously, "I know you're in there, you no good fucking whore! Get your fucking ass out here, right now!" 

He would not let up, cursing and shouting until the door suddenly flung open and Eobard Thawne himself was standing before him. 

Finally! 

Thawne looked extremely pissed off, demanding sharply, "Who are you? How did you get up here?" 

Len ignored Thawne, shoving right by him and stomping inside, looking for Barry. He saw Barry's dress on the floor, his shoes, his stockings and a garter belt, but no other sign of him. 

Fuck. 

He went room to room with Thawne chasing after him, stumbling upon a lush bedroom and finding Barry stretched out across silk sheets. He had nothing on except a pair of red and gold panties and a red underbust corset, laying on his back like a present just waiting to be torn into. 

This wasn't the right time to enjoy the view, but wow, did Barry look absolutely delicious like this. Finally seeing all the long and lean lines of that gorgeous body laid bare made his dick jump, trying to stay focused. 

He was glad to see that Barry still had some clothing left on and his lipstick was still flawless, evidence that Thawne hadn't taken full advantage of him yet. 

Another few minutes... 

Len didn't want to think about that. 

"What... Len?" Barry gasped as he saw him standing there. He sat up quickly, eyes wide with relief and then confusion, demanding, "What the hell are you doing here?" 

"I could ask you the same fuckin' thing, you slut!" Len snarled, hoping Barry would catch on. He grabbed his arm, pulling him roughly from the bed and growling, "Go! Get your clothes on! We're going home!" 

"No!" Barry shouted, wiggling against Len's grip as he played along, slapping violently at his hand. "I'm not going with you!" 

"I've bought and paid for this gentleman," Thawne snarled impatiently, "I don't know who you are or how you managed to get up here, but-" 

"You're not getting shit," Len argued, scowling at Thawne and dragging Barry with him towards the door. 

"I'm getting exactly what I paid for," Thawne corrected as he followed them close, "It's really best if you leave right now. You see, you're right. He is a whore, and tonight, he is _my_ whore." 

Even if this was all just a new ploy to get Barry out with the keycard, those words struck Len the wrong way. 

He hauled off and punched Thawne right in the mouth, shouting, "Fuck you!" 

"What the fuck are you doing!" Barry screamed in genuine distress, watching Thawne crumble to the floor. His hands clasped over his mouth in shock, staring dumbly at Len. 

"Get your shit, we're going!" Len yelled, knowing that hitting Thawne was going way too far, but it was too late now. He growled, pushing Barry to go grab his clothes. 

"You're seriously going to regret that," Thawne groaned from the floor, pulling out a small device from his pocket and pressing a button. 

Len could feel his phone vibrating, Hartley probably calling him that security was now alerted and on their way. 

Shit. 

Barry managed to step into the dress and pull it up, cradling his shoes against his chest as Len snatched his arm to pull him towards the front door. 

They still had to get into Thawne's office. 

Barry knew what had to be done now, breaking away and racing towards the office, pleading, "Please! You can't keep controlling my life like this!" 

"I'll do whatever I want," Len countered, "You're my husband!" 

Barry shook his head, stammering, "N-no! I'm going to file for a divorce, I fucking hate you!" He flung himself at the door, opening it and racing inside with Len right behind him. 

Len slammed the door closed, locking it tight, shouting, "Don't you dare run away from me!" 

Barry reached inside the edge of the corset, holding up the keycard as he yelled back, "Leave me alone! I fucking hate you! Don't you dare touch me!" 

"You just wait until I get my hands on you!" Len roared, knocking over a lamp and making a big ruckus. He motioned for Barry to keep going, taking the keycard from him and hurrying to Thawne's computer. 

Barry continued to cuss and shout, making plenty of noise. Thawne was banging at the door, soon joined by the voices of multiple others demanding for them both to come out at once. 

Len moved fast, inserting the card into the receiver on the computer and shutting down the backup generator as fast as he could. 

Next, he texted Caitlyn, telling her to blow the power. 

It was time. 

They only had a few precious seconds, Len grabbing Barry and setting him up on the desk. He pushed himself between his legs and pressed close, whispering, "Do you still trust me?" 

"I do," Barry whispered back, gasping loudly when the power went out. 

"Then kiss me," Len purred, his hands quickly pushing Barry's skirt up. 

Barry wrapped his arms around Len's neck, kissing him hard and moaning softly. 

Len squeezed Barry's thighs, licking his way into his mouth and groaning when Barry started sucking on his tongue. It was ringing bells and fireworks all over again, forgetting for a moment they were in the middle of high stakes heist. 

All he could taste and feel was Barry, sweet and gorgeous Barry writhing against him as they passionately made out. 

Definitely smearing his lipstick now. 

Len grunted, dropping his pants and underwear around his knees. 

"What are you doing!" Barry hissed, wiggling in protest. 

"Trust me," Len whispered urgently, pulling Barry right to the edge of the desk. He kissed him again, holding his hips under the folds of the dress and started grinding forward. 

Barry moaned desperately, genuinely passionate as Len's hard cock pressed against his own. He bucked up against Len, his long nails scratching at his back through the thin cotton of his shirt, whimpering, "Len... that's...! Oh, my God!" 

"Shhhh," Len murmured, trying to stay on task. They had to make this look convincing, but still control themselves. 

When the lights flickered back on finally, it was clear that neither one of them was doing a very good job with the latter. 

Barry was sweating, his lipstick definitely smudged, flushed all the way down to his chest. His cock was peeking out from the top of his panties, hard and red at the tip, a drop of clear fluid gathered there glittering in the light. 

Len's hands were moving down Barry's legs, spreading his knees and watching his swollen cock press against Barry's length still trapped inside the lace. Their eyes met, both blown wide with lust, and their lips crashed back together in a fierce kiss. 

It was then that the security guards finally broke down the door, Barry squeaking with real embarrassment and trying to cover himself back up. 

Len jerked his head around, scrambling to pull his pants back up. He stood in front of Barry, attempting to keep him out of sight while he got his dress back on. 

"Gentlemen, please take my date downstairs and see him off safely," Thawne said, his upper lip twitching, "It would seem he's already been soiled. But him." He pointed at Len. "You are going to pay for this insult in blood." 

"Is that a threat of bodily harm, Mr. Thawne?" Lisa's voice rang out sharply, forcing everyone to jerk their head around and meet her fierce gaze, "I'll just add that to the solicitation charges I'll be arresting you for." 

Len had never been so happy to see his sister, resisting the honest urge to pump his fist in the air. 

Hunter was standing beside her, his head bowed down like a puppy who'd been caught peeing on the rug, saying quietly, "Mr. Thawne, this is Detective Smalls of the Las Vegas Police Department." 

Thawne stiffened immediately. 

"Hi," Lisa purred, wiggling her fingers in a little wave, "Now, how about you send away your little goons, Mr. Thawne, and we can have a civilized conversation about how we are going to handle these charges?" 

Thawne nodded, scowling as he instructed his men to leave except Hunter. He shut the door of the office, turning and giving Lisa a fake smile, saying calmly, "Let's talk, Detective. I'm sure we can work something out to make this all go away." 

"I would like to think so!" Lisa said cheerfully, "Now, I've been working undercover for months targeting the escort company you like to employ so regularly, and I would hate to lose all of that hard work... perhaps if you offered to compensate me properly, I could tell my superiors that my investigation has revealed nothing about your potential involvement?" 

"Compensate," Thawne repeated the word and smiled nastily, "I believe that can be arranged." 

"Excellent. Now, as for you," Lisa went on, regarding Barry with a disgusted sneer, "If you agree to assist my investigation, I'll offer you immunity and not lock you up for selling all your pretty holes. Sound good?" 

"Uh, s-sure," Barry stuttered, finally stepping around Len to speak, brushing his hair back into place and smoothing out his skirt. Len was envious of the ease of hiding a raging erection in a dress compared to jeans. 

Hunter had opened up a safe and was handing Lisa a very generous stack of cash that she tucked away into her purse, chirping happily, "Thank you so much! Hope you boys all have a lovely evening." 

"A pleasure, detective," Thawne said coldly, forcing his mouth to curl into another false smile. 

She pointed at Len and Barry, barking, "You two. With me." 

Len offered his hand to Barry to help him step back into his shoes, glaring at Thawne as they followed Lisa out. 

Thawne had caught Barry's elbow, sliding him a business card. His icy wall had crumbled a bit, his thumb gently brushing over his cheek as he said, "Should you ever file those divorce papers..." 

Barry blushed, tucking the card in the front of his dress with a shy smile, saying, "You'll be the first one I call." 

Thawne seemed pleased with that, his eyes finding Len and smiling smugly. 

Len offered Thawne sincerely angry glare in return, grabbing Barry's arm and jerking him out the door. Lisa marched down the hallway, cradling her purse full of cash close, herding them into the elevator. 

They piled inside, Lisa immediately falling into a stream of cursing when the doors were safely shut. "Shit! Shit! Shit!" she hissed furiously, "We should have let Mick play the cop! He would have never been caught-" 

"It's fine," Len soothed, hugging her tightly, "Crisis averted. Thanks to your quick thinking, dear sister. All is well. Nice play with the undercover bit." 

"Hey! You, too! The old jealous boyfriend gag?" Lisa laughed. 

"Husband," Barry corrected with a playful smile. 

Len took Barry's hand, smiling warmly at him as he purred, "I decided to put a ring on it because he is simply amazing." 

"Cut the sweet talk," Barry said sternly in spite of the big grin plastered across his face, "Still on the job." 

"Uh huh," Len purred, leaning in to kiss him, slow and sweet. Sparks ignited immediately, the uncomfortably tight pull of denim reminding him of what they had started and never finished. 

"Mmmph. To be continued," Barry mumbled against his lips, his cheeks flushing brightly again. 

"Yes," Len agreed whole heartedly, stealing one more soft kiss before pulling away and tugging at his jeans. 

Lisa loudly cleared her throat, grinning as she teased, "You two are just adorable. Now! Let's go make us into adorable little millionaires!" 

"Still need to get back to the vault," Len mused, "Axel has gotten out of the cart and used to gems to blow the floor sensors inside the vault by now. Mick should have kept going and has certainly knocked out the guards and tied them all up." 

"Hartley has already switched to his laptop to keep the empty vault video going and intercept the emergency phone calls," Lisa continued dutifully, "Him and James should be at the SWAT van with Nimbus and Stein any minute now. Caitlyn is en route to Mardon, ready to take the fake money and make it go boom." 

"Uhm. Here's a thought. Can Mick get inside the vault without you?" Barry wondered out loud, his brow furrowing in concern. 

Lisa and Len exchanged a frown. 

Lisa pursed her lips and replied carefully, "Well, it depends. Can this particular vault be threatened with enough physical violence that it will open out of fear?" 

"The backup generator will stay offline until Thawne realizes his keycard is missing," Len said, thinking fast, "We need another power outage so I can get down there." 

"Better call Caitlyn," Lisa chirped, "Like, right fuckin' now." 

Len pulled out his phone, dialing Caitlyn. 

"What?" Caitlyn answered sharply. 

"Hey, there," Len drawled sweetly, "How are you. Hope you're having a lovely evening. Quick question. What are the chances of you turning the power off again?" 

"Are you fucking serious?" she snapped. 

"Yes." 

"You're so very lucky I like to blow things up," she groaned exasperatedly, "Give me ten minutes." 

The elevator hit the ground level, Lisa taking Barry out front and leaving Len to go retrieve his uniform from the trash. Caitlyn was able to turn off the power again as promised, and Len finally scaled down the elevator shaft to join Mick below at the vault. 

"Where the fuck you been?" Mick complained, pouting defiantly when Len came strolling leisurely up to him. 

"Busy," Len replied with a smirk. 

"Yeah, I can tell," Mick snickered, getting a closer look, "Nice lipstick." 

"Thanks," Len chuckled, cracking his knuckles and getting to work on the vault. 

Four years of plotting had led to this sweet moment, and he opened the vault even faster than he'd originally anticipated. He had never been so happy to see Axel's dopey smile on the other side, waving at them cheerfully when the door finally opened wide. 

The rest of the plan went off beautifully after that. Hartley made the phone call instead of Len in case Thawne recognized his voice, threatening him with the live footage of everyone hanging out in the vault. 

Thawne agreed to the deal and then immediately called the police as Len knew he would. 

James pretended to be an emergency dispatcher, finally discarding his terrible French accent as he assured Mr. Thawne that a very skilled team would be on the way shortly to reclaim the vault. 

The casino staff loaded up the remote controlled van with the fake cash provided to them by Len and the others inside the vault. When the van was ready to take off, Thawne sent Hunter to follow it and get his money back. 

Mardon and Caitlyn would use the remote van to lead Hunter on a wild goose chase through downtown Las Vegas. They would take him down to the docks before blowing up the van and all the fake cash inside. 

Barry, Lisa, Nimbus, Stein, and James changed into their SWAT uniforms, helmets down to hide their faces, and raided the vault upon their arrival at the casino in a flurry of tear gas bombs and gunfire. 

The bullets were blanks and the tear gas were only smoke bombs, using the coverage for Len, Mick, and Axel to quickly change into the extra uniforms they'd brought for them. 

Hartley had remained in the van, toggling the footage of the vault as needed to help them cover their tracks as the team walked out with duffel bags full of cash. 

The real cash, a hundred and eighty million dollars worth of cash. 

Before anyone could ask any questions about what had happened or figure out what had been done, Snart's Eleven were gone. 

They all met back up at the warehouse to change clothes and divvy up the money, Caitlyn presenting one last little surprise for them. It was another bomb, big enough to take out the warehouse and destroy all the evidence of their heist. 

One by one, everyone took their cut of the loot, Len advising them all to seek out warmer climates as soon as possible. 

Stein shook Len's hand before departing, thanking him for the chance to spit right in Thawne's eye. He also told him that if he ever came asking for any help with a caper this insane again, he would slap him right in his smug face. 

Nimbus and Mardon told Len that he wasn't as big of an asshole as they thought he was. They left together, beaming happily before their voices began to rise in the familiar snap of bickering that served as their foreplay. 

James and Axel got ready to leave, but Axel stopped to ask Hartley if he wanted to join them. He didn't know where they were going, but he would be more than happy to show him how flexible he was. James giggled madly and Hartley gurgled something incoherent, but nodded enthusiastically and followed them outside. 

Caitlyn showed Len how to set the bomb and gave Lisa a warm hug as she said her farewells to everyone. She waited by the door, clearly expecting a certain someone to come with her. 

Mick hugged Lisa and Len both, promising to catch up with them once they all reached their new slices of paradise. He winked, pressing a very familiar key into Len's hand. 

It was the key to the El Camino. 

Len couldn't believe it; Mick had finally found someone he loved more than that damn car. He smiled happily, watching his friend leave with Caitlyn, his arm curled around her waist. What a pair they made, he chuckled to himself. 

"Well, as much as I positively want to vomit from all this romance, I don't mind flying solo," Lisa teased, kissing her brother's cheek, "I do believe you boys have some unfinished business, ahem, to attend to." 

"Love you, trainwreck," Len purred happily. 

"Love you, jerk," Lisa chirped happily, "Take care of each other." 

"Bye, Lees," Barry said, hugging her tight. 

"Mmmm, bye, Barry," she replied, purring with a little wink, "Try not to break him. He's a fragile old thing." 

"I'll be very gentle," Barry chuckled, winking back. 

Lisa left with a swing in her hips, carrying her share of the cash out plus the hefty bribe from Thawne, her head held high. 

Barry and Len were alone now, smiling dumbly at one another and the millions left to split between them. 

Len approached first, his hands easily taking their place back around Barry's waist as he teased, "Up for running away together to a tropical climate?" 

Barry laughed, pulling Len in for a warm kiss, murmuring, "I'd settle for a nice hotel room and a bottle of whisky for tonight." 

"Mmmm," Len hummed, "I do believe someone owes me a date first." 

"I guess we did get away with it, didn't we?" 

"Uh huh." 

"So, where are we gonna go for this date?" Barry asked, smiling brightly. "Any ideas?" 

"Paris," Len replied easily, reaching into his jacket to present Barry with two first class airline tickets. 

"W-what?" Barry stared. "How did you... when did..." 

"I bought these and set up this little trip the day after you agreed to join this little caper." 

"Even if you knew the plan would work, you couldn't have known that I'd agree to flee the country with you," Barry accused, eyeing him suspiciously, "My mom is still here, I-" 

"Oh, you don't understand. This is for the date that you agreed to. You were only going to give me one, so I figured I'd better make it count," Len explained with a sly grin, "I already have a dinner reservation for tomorrow night. If it doesn't go well, you're free to flee wherever you'd like sans moi." 

"You're absolutely ridiculous," Barry groaned, kissing the laughter right out of Len's mouth. "God... what am I supposed to do with you?" 

"Whatever you'd like," Len replied honestly, "Our flight doesn't leave until tomorrow morning. Which leaves us the rest of the evening to do with whatever we please." 

"Hmm, any suggestions?" Barry asked coyly. 

"Hotel room and whisky sounded nice. Maybe some more lap dance lessons, those were fun. We could pick up where we left off in Thawne's office..." 

Barry grinned wickedly, taunting, "Oh? Still wanna throw all your chips in with me, huh? Pretty big gamble." 

"I don't mind going in blind as long as I come out happy," Len teased right back, "And I have a pretty good feeling the odds are in our favor." 

"Maybe," Barry mused, "But if I decide to bet on you, are you gonna call me?" 

Len smiled, tenderly and sweet. The real prize of the night wasn't all the cash on the table; it was this beautiful man here in Len's arms, the little pickpocket who had managed to steal his heart right from under his nose. 

"Cards on the table?" He kissed Barry passionately, replying breathlessly, "Right now, I'm all in."


	7. A New Plan

"Are you ready yet?" Len asked impatiently, adjusting his cufflinks, eyeing the bathroom door. 

"No," Barry replied cheerfully, "And the more you ask me, the longer I'm going to take." 

Len rolled his eyes, sitting down on the edge of the bed to wait. He knew the final reveal would certainly be worth it, but he hated being late. 

Last night, the two of them had stayed up drinking and making out in a cheap motel until it was time to hurry over to the airport to make their flight to France. As amorous as they both were, neither wanted their first time together to be in some dump with stained sheets and a neon clown on the sign. 

They had behaved themselves, slept the alcohol off on the flight, and woke up in France. 

Len had booked a suite at the Shangri-La Hotel in Paris that had an exquisite view of the Eiffel Tower from their own private terrace. Barry had absolutely fallen to pieces when he saw it, throwing his arms around Len and kissing him passionately. 

Len reminded him they still had dinner reservations to attend to, prompting Barry to flee into the bathroom to get ready. 

Having taken Barry's insult about his wardrobe into consideration, Len had purchased a new Armani suit just for this evening. Black on black with no tie, icy pearl buttons on his button up shirt and shimmering pearl cufflinks. He had left the top few buttons of his shirt undone and then sprayed on a cool, minty cologne. 

He glanced over himself in the large mirror hanging over the bed, smirking slyly at his reflection. 

Damn, he looked good. 

Although he was certain Barry would look much better, calling out again, "Mmm, how about now?" 

"I think, fuck. I think my zipper is stuck," Barry called back, groaning loudly in frustration. 

Len stood up, stepping towards the door, asking, "Do you need some assistance?" 

"Is there any possible way for you to zip me up without actually looking at me?" Barry replied, laughing coyly, "I don't want to ruin the surprise." 

"I won't peek," Len promised, closing his eyes firmly and waiting for Barry to open the door. He heard it open, stepping forward with his hands out. 

He felt fabric almost immediately, smooth, soft, grasping Barry's hips. Definitely a tight dress judging by the fit, sliding his fingers along to find the troublesome zipper. He found it, but couldn't resist a sliding a hand along Barry's lean back. 

He was expecting bare skin, but instead found the silken cloth of a corset. 

"Ohhh, what's this?" Len purred, plucking lightly at the boning. 

"It's part of the surprise," Barry griped, wiggling in protest, "No peeking!" 

"My eyes are still closed," Len said innocently, his fingers finding the zipper and tugging it down hard to get it over the snag. 

"There, now zip it back up," Barry said urgently. 

"Uh huh," Len hummed, continuing to pull the zipper down. 

"Len," Barry protested faintly. 

Len stepped closer until he was pressed flush against Barry's back. He rested his head on his shoulder, his eyes still obediently shut, breathing in Barry's sweet perfume. "Mmm, is there a problem?" 

"I'm supposed to be getting dressed, not undressed," Barry complained even as his breathing was starting to quicken. 

Len slid his hands through the opening of the dress, each wrapping around Barry's waist, feeling the front of the corset. He could detect ornate silk lace with little bows. Where the corset ended, he found a fancy bra, a balconette fitted for Barry's lean chest. 

He slipped a nimble finger inside one of the cups, sliding over Barry's nipple and making him shudder. His other hand skirted down Barry's stomach to the edge of his panties, skimming the hem before tracing the line of his hardening cock. 

Barry was panting, curling his spine and pushing his ass back against Len, groaning, "You're going to ruin... the fuckin' surprise!" 

"Eyes still closed," Len assured him, trying to imagine what color Barry's lingerie was. Maybe red, that particular hue always so flattering on his skin tone. Black was very sexy, but he wanted to imagine that Barry had chosen something different, something special for tonight. 

Len kept toying with Barry's nipple, pressing as close as he could. He kissed Barry's shoulder, light as a feather, his mouth gliding to his neck, his ear. 

Barry was whimpering, grabbing Len's hand and pushing it down on his cock, gasping, "I swear to God if you don't touch me, I'm going to lose my fucking mind!" 

Len chuckled heartily, squeezing Barry and petting him softly. "We still have dinner reservations," he reminded, slipping his fingers inside Barry's panties to touch his bare skin, "I don't want us to be late." 

"Fuck dinner," Barry groaned, pushing his ass back and grabbing Len's hip roughly, "We can order room service... God... that feels good." 

Len pressed forward, rubbing his hard dick against Barry as he teasingly stroked him, not allowing enough pressure for any real friction to form. He could feel Barry throbbing in his hand, and he knew he was driving him crazy. 

The feeling was mutual. 

Len's face was scrunched up from having to actively keep his eyes closed. He could hear Barry panting, feel him shuddering, but he wanted to see him desperately. 

"Are you sure?" Len went on, thumbing over the head of Barry's cock, "It was a really nice restaurant. Very fancy. I'm wearing a new suit, just for tonight..." 

"Len," Barry urged, his voice hitting a high pitch, an angry whine, "Open your damn eyes, and then you tell me if you still want to go to dinner." 

Len couldn't resist the temptation, peeking a tiny bit and his breath was immediately stolen away, his eyes snapping wide open at what he saw. 

The mirror in front of them above the bathroom sink gave Len the perfect view, Barry's gorgeous face flushed and his ruby red lips parted as he panted softly. His eyes were lined in black, dark with want, gazing adoringly at Len through the reflection. 

His lingerie was crafted in shades of rich cream though the lace at the front of the corset and balconette's details were all black. It looked vintage, expensive, and it was absolutely stunning on Barry's lean frame. 

They were not going to dinner. 

Len stroked Barry's cock until he moaned, kissing at his ear and jaw, making his intentions very clear. 

Barry whirled around in Len's arms, slamming their lips together in a fierce kiss. He tasted sweet, fruity and delicious, and Len couldn't wait another second. 

He picked Barry right off the floor, wrapping his long legs around his waist and never letting their lips part for more than a second. He had spent years fantasizing how he would make this moment perfect for both of them. He could hardly believe it was finally happening. 

Len gently laid Barry out across the bed, murmuring slyly, "Ever made it on a million dollars before?" 

Barry laughed, grinning as he replied, "Mm, no, but there's a first time for everything." 

Len smirked, reaching just under the foot of the bed for his duffel bag. He grabbed stacks of cash, flinging them up on the bed. Barry laughed, rolling out of the way as Len busted the stacks open, raining bills down over the expensive covers. 

Barry flopped back on the ridiculous amount of cash, giggling, "Are you sure this is actually a million?" 

"Would you like me to count it?" Len asked, slipping off his jacket and shirt, ravenously gazing over Barry's long legs swinging amongst the pile of bills. 

"Would you?" Barry asked sweetly, batting his eyes. 

Len laughed, down to his boxers now and crawling onto the bed. The money crinkled beneath his hands and knees, bowing his head to kiss Barry, mumbling, "I'll get right on it." 

"Get on me first," Barry purred, running his nails over Len's hair. 

Len smirked, moving a hand down between Barry's legs. He knew he needed to grab lube, surprised when he pulled Barry's panties to the side and found that he was already slick. 

"Why, Barry," Len purred approvingly, his fingers eagerly sinking in the moist heat, "All ready for me, hmmm?" 

"I was thinking about you in the shower," Barry sighed as his eyes fluttered shut, his back curling beautifully off the bed like a cat's, moaning, "God, yes... please. Come on." 

Len wanted to tease and draw this out, but he found he couldn't stand wasting another moment without being inside of Barry. He kicked off his boxers, smiling happily down at Barry. Cash crunching beneath his knees and condom eagerly rolled on, he pushed up between his thighs. 

Barry's legs squeezed Len's hips, crossing his ankles as he took a deep breath, his eyes shining with lust as he watched Len lube himself up. "Come on," he whined, "I got ready so I wouldn't have to wait-oh, God!" 

"Fuck, Barry..." Len began to push inside, groaning at the tight fit and immediately dropping down onto his elbows. He had to kiss Barry, tell him how wonderful he felt, how perfect and hot he was, every other adoring word lost to his lips. 

Barry was moaning softly, pretty little gasping sounds that made Len's heart ache, his nails dragging lightly over his back. He rolled his hips to meet Len for every thrust, bottoming out together and both of them marveling at the perfect fit. 

Barry was a ferociously passionate lover, rocking his body to make the most of every slam, grabbing Len's back and shoulders, his nails digging in when Len would push deep. He was gasping more, making more of those beautiful noises and whimpering, "Fuck, Len... just like that, just like that... fuck!" 

Len focused in on the angle that had Barry cursing, lifting his leg a little higher. The higher he went, the louder Barry got. Len finally threw his leg up over his shoulder, determined to make this beautiful boy completely fall apart. 

Barry snapped a hand up to the headboard to brace himself, staring at Len in shock and amazement, groaning, "Fuck! Yes! That, that, there! Wait, no, no... yes, okay, yes, yes, _yes_!" 

Len grinned, sucking in breath as quickly as he could as he started pounding Barry's tight ass. Once he had the perfect spot all lined up, he was totally relentless. Barry's body swallowed him up completely, clenching down so fucking tightly it almost hurt, and Len absolutely loved it. 

The lace of the corset was rubbing his stomach, and the sensation was positively erotic. He could feel Barry's cock trapped between them, pressed against flesh and silk, purposely pressing down harder to give him more friction. 

He could see the head of his cock drooling all over the pricey fabric, a single line of clear fluid clinging as it connected skin and lace. He kissed Barry again, stretching his other leg over his shoulder and fucking him frantically. 

Four years was a long time to go without, and being balls deep inside the gorgeous Barry Allen was a hell of a way to end his dry spell. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, but he was determined to take Barry with him. 

He steadied his weight with one arm, his other hand sliding up the boning of the corset and pulling Barry's bra down. He squeezed his nipple, loving the little squeal it earned him, fucking him in time with each cruel little twist. 

Barry couldn't breathe, his head snapping to the side as he moaned and clung to Len's shoulders, crying out, "Len! I'm, I'm, I'm so fucking close!" 

Len snaked his hand back down to grab Barry's dripping cock, jerking him in the same merciless rhythm as his hips, grunting and sweating, growling, "Yes... Come on... come for me, Barry." 

Barry's voice went up some octaves in waves of moans, screaming sweetly as he came, thrusting up against Len's palm as he busted all over the soft lace of his corset. His face was beautiful to behold, flushing a brighter shade of red than Len thought possible, his lips widening and curling into a dirty smile as he trembled beneath him. 

"Oh, _Len..._ " Barry purred, continuing to mewl and fuss as Len kept fucking him. He was clearly overstimulated and wrecked, whining loudly. 

Hearing his name in that husky tone was Len's undoing, a few more quick slams and he was firing away, the condom catching every drop of his hot load. It was amazing, passionate, and definitely the most intense sex he'd ever had. 

Judging by Barry's smug little smile, he knew it, too. 

"Mmm," Barry hummed, limp and happy, kissing Len's lips slowly, "Room service?" 

"Uh huh," Len agreed, teasingly rocking his hips until Barry smacked his shoulder. 

"God, how are you still hard?" Barry laughed, wiggling away. 

"Mmm, maybe it's just you," Len said, pulling out and tidying up the condom. He returned to bed, pulling Barry's stretched panties off and flinging them aside. He helped him take off his bra and corset, kissing all the pressure lines left behind from the corset's rigid boning. 

Barry sighed and hummed, petting Len's hair as he went. There was cash all over the bed, the pillows, and the floor. Len didn't care; the most valuable thing was right here in his arms. 

Len tentatively licked at Barry's spent cock, earning himself a sharp gasp. 

"Trying to get a second round going?" Barry laughed breathlessly, blinking rapidly. 

"Uh huh." 

"Mmm, someone's feelin' lucky." 

"Well," Len purred, "Considering we just made off with our share of over a hundred and eighty million dollars after robbing one of the most secure vaults in the country, and I have the most gorgeous man I've ever met here in bed with me... Right about now, yeah, I'm feeling pretty damn lucky." 

"Oh, yeah?" Barry grinned, dragging Len back up for a kiss, teasing, "You know the best luck of all is the luck you make for yourself." 

"We've got all night," Len chuckled, pressing their lips together softly, "Let's fuckin' make some."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end! <333
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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